"Pastel de nata~"
"Arepas con queso~"
"Mango sticky rice~"
Jessica was busy in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, holding down a fresh fish. Her cooking knife moved with practiced precision as she hummed. "And fish balls, Felicia's favorite~"
"Meow~ Is there something prepared for me too?"
Felicia Hardy leaned into the kitchen with a playful grin, her signature white hair brushing over her shoulders. Her catlike grace was matched only by the teasing tone in her voice. "Jessica, you're too sweet~"
"Oh? Felicia?"
Jessica raised a brow, cleaver chopping in rhythm. "Weren't you outside keeping Matilda entertained?"
Felicia snatched up another fish and began scaling it with surprising efficiency. "She and Jack Kadere are glued to the TV, completely hypnotized. No way I'm going to interrupt them~"
"It smells amazing in here."
A familiar voice floated from the window. A blonde figure was hanging upside down, golden hair cascading downward, her eyes bright with excitement.
"Wow~ Dinner looks rich today!"
"Gwen." Jessica tapped the window frame with her knife. "Use the door like a normal person. Come in and help me already."
...
Mealtime.
"Mmm-hmm~"
Matilda chewed happily, her gaze never leaving the TV. Her little face was fixed in an adorably serious expression as the cartoon played on.
Gwen, who had dropped by to shamelessly mooch a meal, smiled warmly. There was something almost maternal in her eyes as she whispered, "She's so cute~"
"You're cuter, Gwen."
Jack Kadere balanced a bowl of soup in one hand, while his other made subtle gestures under the table. His lips curved mischievously. "No running off right after dinner."
"Don't rush me~"
Gwen's face flushed pink. She kept her composure, deftly picking up a piece of lamb for her best friend. She chuckled softly. "The night's still young... Jessica, you better eat up and keep your strength."
"Hmph."
Jessica wasn't about to be outdone. She dropped a piece of food into Gwen's bowl with equal defiance. "You're the one who needs strength, Gwen. Eat more."
...
Night fell.
On Jessica's enormous bed, the moonlight spilling across the sheets, Matilda tossed and turned. Her slender arms and legs sprawled one way and then another. Sleep simply wouldn't come.
A short while ago, she had gone to the restroom. On her way back, she'd passed Jack's room.
That's when she heard it.
The muffled noises. The sounds of her brother and sister fighting. And it was loud.
Matilda paused, her small hands pressed to the wall, listening with wide eyes.
"...Could it be this family isn't as warm as it looks? Brother and sister... they clash behind the scenes too..."
The faint thuds and muffled gasps made her heart heavy. At just 21, Matilda couldn't quite piece it together, but confusion and worry churned in her mind.
She grabbed one of Jessica's long body pillows, hugging it tight like an octopus. After some restless rubbing and shifting, she finally drifted into an inexplicably peaceful sleep.
....
S.H.I.E.L.D. Training Base
"Hah!"
Bang!
A silver baton sliced the air, colliding hard against its black counterpart. The dull impact echoed through the training hall.
Natasha Romanoff's sharp wrist movement redirected her strike in an unexpected angle. Her black baton skimmed Barbara's defense and flicked back toward her!
Clang!
Barbara Morse—Mockingbird—quickly crossed her two silver batons into an "X," blocking the attack. She exhaled, a smile flashing. "Natasha, you've improved again."
"I picked up a few moves from Jack Kadere~"
Natasha's tone was deliberately playful, her sly smirk leaving little to the imagination.
"Hey! You and him—"
Barbara snapped her two batons together, forming a single medium-length weapon. With a swift sweep, she attacked with renewed force.
Clang!
"Oh my~"
Natasha combined her twin batons into one as well, deflecting the horizontal strike. She chuckled, "Barbara, don't tell me you're jealous?"
"Of course not!"
Barbara's eyes narrowed, her steps quick and precise as she circled. Her baton spun smoothly around her waist before gathering momentum for a thrust.
"You still say no."
Natasha knew better than to meet that inertia-fueled strike head-on. Planting her weapon to the ground, she pushed off with practiced agility, vaulting backward.
Thump!
Her boots skidded against the floor just as Barbara's baton sliced through empty air. Without pause, Barbara twirled the weapon into a spear-like stance, lunging again.
"Did you do anything with him?"
Natasha smirked, opening the silver tip of her baton to block. "Relax, Barbara. I only trained with him at Stark's place. Didn't you work with him in Monaco? You should know his skills are top-notch."
"I don't know..."
Barbara disassembled her weapon back into two shorter batons, her expression faintly awkward. "Are his skills really that sharp? I thought he was... just a talented amateur."
She had known Jack Kadere longer than Natasha. For Natasha to have noticed something she hadn't—it stung.
"You didn't flirt so much that you forgot your assignment, did you?"
Natasha tilted her head, her tone equal parts teasing and scolding. "We're S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives, Barbara. Elite agents. Don't let your feelings cloud you. Hill would lose her mind if she knew half the things you've done with him."
Barbara's eyes darted toward the surveillance cameras in the corner. Lowering her voice, she asked, "You didn't tell her, did you?"
"Of course not."
Natasha broke her baton back into two short sticks, gesturing playfully with one. "Come on. Let's keep going."
"I wasn't assigned to monitor you, after all~"
"Hmph."
Barbara twirled her batons again, her sharp grin returning. "Black Widow... with you, I never know when you're telling the truth."
Natasha smirked knowingly. "Mockingbird... I used to think that codename didn't suit you. But you really are good at mimicry. Even your excuses sound rehearsed."
"Hey!"
Barbara Morse—better known in S.H.I.E.L.D. as Mockingbird—flushed scarlet, her sharp blue eyes burning with indignation. "You're not allowed to twist things like that!"
Clink—clank!Clink—clank!
The two top operatives clashed fiercely for a few more minutes, the sound of steel and grunts echoing through the training hall. But neither one yielded, their match ending in a stalemate. Both finally dropped onto the bench, catching their breath side by side.
Mockingbird dug into her bag, pulling out a chilled energy drink. She tossed it toward Natasha. "Here. Tell me, Romanoff… are we friends?"
Natasha smirked as she cracked the seal and took a sip. "Of course, Barbara. Why wouldn't we be?"
Barbara leaned closer, voice soft but earnest. "Then would you help me with a mission? It's nothing dangerous. Just an invitation."
Natasha arched a brow, already suspicious. "Let me guess. This is about Fury's latest idea—bringing in consultants? I know he's already looking at Tony Stark. And… Jack Kadere."
Barbara nodded quickly, almost bouncing with relief. "Exactly! As expected of Natasha—you always figure things out first."
Natasha's smirk flattened into something more serious. "So Hill wants Stark and Jack out in the open. You've already revealed yourself as an Agent, and they expect me to do the same. But you…" She narrowed her eyes. "You want someone else to deliver the invitation instead, so you can stay off the radar. Isn't that right?"
Barbara bobbed her head rapidly. "Mhm, mhm, yes!"
"Yes to what, exactly?" Natasha pushed the bottle back into Barbara's hands, her tone stern. "Barbara, you need to ask yourself something important—do you still want to be an Agent?"
Barbara froze. Her thoughts drifted back to recent weeks. The late nights, the secrecy, the constant missions compared against the camaraderie and laughter she'd found working in the field less formally. A guilty smile tugged at her lips. "Honestly… it feels like I don't want this life as badly anymore."
Natasha blinked, caught off guard. "(⊙x⊙)… huh."
....
Meanwhile, elsewhere in New York…
The hiss of hot water filled the air. Droplets ran down pale, toned skin, tracing the curves of her body and pooling at her ankles. Jessica Jones stood beneath the shower, her dark hair plastered against her cheeks and shoulders, strands clinging to her lips as she sighed in quiet relief. The warm cascade dulled the edges of her constant tension, at least for a moment.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
"Gwen… get the door," Jessica muttered over the noise.
A muffled groan came from the couch outside, followed by silence.
"Tch… fine. Felicia?"
From the other side of the bathroom wall, Felicia Hardy called back lazily, "Just a sec. My tail's still wet—I need to dry it first."
Jessica rolled her eyes. "Unbelievable…"
Slippers scuffed against the floor. "I'll go!" chimed in a younger voice.
Matilda, the newest addition to the strange household, bounded toward the door. When she pulled it open, she found herself staring at a striking red-haired woman in a sleek black combat suit.
Matilda blinked. "Uh… hello? Who are you looking for?"
Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, studied the young woman discreetly. This girl hadn't been in any of Fury's files. Another variable. But her smile was smooth and disarming. "I'm here to see Jack Kadere."
Matilda cocked her head, then scampered back inside, calling, "Brother! A lady named Natasha is here to see you!"
A calm voice answered from down the hall, "Invite her in."
Natasha entered the living room, her sharp eyes immediately noting the scene: Jack Kadere seated casually with a steaming mug of milk in hand, Gwen Stacy drowsily wrapped in a towel, Jessica still dripping from the shower with a towel clutched around her body, and Felicia lounging with damp hair. Water stains trailed across the floor.
The Black Widow's brow lifted just slightly. This is the team Fury wants to court?
"Natasha," Jack said smoothly, sipping his drink. "What can I do for you? Want me to show you some new combat tricks? No problem. Tony said he'd reimburse your tuition, after all."
Natasha crossed her legs as she sat across from him, her expression a perfect balance of cool professionalism. "How about we start with you and I having a private talk? Somewhere less… damp. And preferably after everyone's dressed."
Jessica's eyes narrowed, suspicious. "Who is she, Jack?"
Natasha's beauty, her confidence, and that signature Agent uniform all set off alarms in Jessica's mind. In her experience, women like Romanoff had a habit of "recruiting" men in ways Jessica didn't trust one bit.
Jack, unbothered, simply took the sealed folder Natasha held out. "My room, then?"
"Exactly."
.....
Inside Jack's quarters, Natasha subtly scanned every detail: the placement of objects, the cleanliness that felt almost too deliberate, the way he moved as if entirely in control of his environment.
"So Fury sent you personally," Jack said, glancing through the invitation papers. "Tony's already on the list. Who else?"
"At the moment," Natasha replied, watching him closely, "just you two."
Jack chuckled, setting the papers aside. "That's flattering. So tell me—what game is the old Cyclops playing this time? What does he really want us for?"
"Fury," Natasha corrected automatically, though she paused at the nickname. "Wait—you call him Cyclops?"
Jack shrugged, pulling the curtains closed. "One eye. Brooding presence. Mysterious long-game. Come on—it fits."
Natasha's lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn't sure if Jack Kadere was mocking Fury, teasing her, or both. But one thing was already clear: this wasn't going to be a straightforward recruitment.
"Wait—what's this?" she suddenly said.
Her sharp eyes had caught something thin glimmering along the window frame. Reaching out, she pinched it between her fingers and pulled. It stretched, tough and flexible—synthetic spider silk. Gwen's, no doubt, left behind after she'd been here.
Damn it. I was careless… can't let Natasha connect this to Gwen's Ghost-Spider identity.
Jack coughed lightly, putting on a casual face. "Cough… must be Felicia's hair. You know how unique her silver locks are. Sometimes they fall out when she's cleaning."
Natasha raised an unimpressed brow. She stretched the strand again. "Really? Hair that elastic?"
Jack's lips curved shamelessly. "Well… maybe not Felicia's. Actually, Cindy came by earlier and helped tidy up. You know, Silk. Her secret identity's already public anyway."
Natasha twirled the strand between her fingers one last time before discarding it with a tissue. Her expression said she was half-convinced, half suspicious. "Is that so…"
Jack only smiled, unbothered.
...
Hours later.
An abandoned warehouse.
"Really, Fury?" Tony Stark leaned back in his chair, sunglasses glinting beneath the dim lights. "This is where you bring us? What's next, you gonna hand us trench coats and code names?"
Nick Fury sat across from him, unamused. "You know why we're here, Stark."
"If it weren't for that shiny little data packet you handed me, I wouldn't even be listening. And let's not forget—that 'classified information' belonged to my father in the first place."
"Howard Stark was one of the founding members of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Fury shot back flatly.
"Yeah, yeah. You love reminding me." Tony waved dismissively, smirking. "Doesn't make this little meeting feel any less like a bad spy flick."
Fury's jaw tightened. He had hoped to leverage Tony's need for a new clean energy element as bait, but Stark had somehow uncovered the new element design himself and demanded the files before Fury could use them as a bargaining chip. That single move had cut the ground right out from under him. Now he had to tread carefully, because pushing Stark too hard would only drive him away.
And Nick Fury hated being forced to tread carefully.
How exactly did Stark sniff out the element design so quickly? Fury thought grimly.
Click—
The hatch opened, letting in the heavy footsteps of two newcomers. Jack Kadere walked in casually, Barbara Morse—better known as Mockingbird—close behind.
"Kadere, you're late. As usual."
Tony grinned broadly and patted the seat beside him. "Come on, sit here. Let's hear what our one-eyed friend has for us today."
"Hello, Fury." Jack pulled out a chair, sat down, and gave a quick smile. Then he gestured toward Barbara. "This is Barbara. She's my personal bodyguard. I'm assuming she's cleared to hear anything said in this room, right?"
Fury's expression didn't move, though his single eye narrowed slightly. Introducing one of my own agents to me like she's some random hire… this kid's got nerve.
Barbara felt her cheeks tighten into a forced smile. "Heh… yeah." Inside, she was silently screaming: Why in God's name did he drag me here to face the Director?
"Hello, Kadere," Fury replied curtly, deliberately skipping over Barbara's presence. With his authority outranking hers, there was no doubt Jack knew exactly who she was. But Fury had no patience for childish games. If Jack wanted to parade an Agent in front of him, fine—he'd play along. In fact, maybe Barbara could serve as an unofficial bridge between Kadere's circle and S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Since we're all here," Fury said at last, sliding two thick folders across the table, "let's get down to it. Look these over first."
Jack and Tony both took a copy. Pages rustled as they read in silence.
It didn't take long to get the gist. Aside from some minor differences in phrasing, the files were the same: S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted both Iron Man and Jack Kadere to serve as consultants.
Jack glanced sideways at Tony, who was already smirking like he'd expected as much.
"Well," Jack muttered under his breath, "looks like Fury's recruiting drive just got interesting."